Among Friends
by ED of Oblivion
Summary: Written for LJ’s STXI Kink Meme. When McCoy has a disastrously rough day, Kirk and Spock come to the rescue. Kirk/McCoy/Spock friendship.


**Title:** Among Friends

**Fandom:** _Star Trek (XI)_

**Rating:** PG (K+)

**Pairing:** Kirk/McCoy/Spock (friendship)

**Word count:** 2070

**Summary:** When McCoy has a disastrously rough day, Kirk and Spock come to the rescue.

**Warnings:** Light swearing, fluff, lots of McCoy-appreciation.

**Notes:** Written for a prompt on LJ's STXI Kink Meme, which asked for a fluffy, loving friendship fic.

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_**Among Friends**_

"_Thus nature has no love for solitude, and always leans, as it were, on some support; and the sweetest support is found in the most intimate friendship."_ –Cicero (106 BC - 43 BC)

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Leonard McCoy collapsed back into his chair, allowing his pent-up sigh to finally release. The _Enterprise_'s latest away team had ended in disaster. He should have known, dammit – it had been almost two months since any missions had gone seriously awry, and with his luck McCoy should have been able to see that the ship was overdue for some horrible mishap.

Six ensigns and two yeomen in total had been lost: five had the good fortune to die quickly and painlessly down on-planet, while the last had died on the table in sickbay. And that didn't even include the sheer amount of injured that required treatment following the ensuing chaos. He and his medical team had worked non-stop for nearly eight hours before things began to settle down. It was the horrifyingly insane times like these that made McCoy question his decision to join Starfleet; he was getting sick to death of diplomatic misunderstandings and uncontrollable radiation and the death and destruction that resulted from both.

The whiskey from his quarters made it all a little better, at any rate, and his well-earned window of precious free time at least allowed him to mull over the whole situation. McCoy knew that this was all pretty much covered in his job description. And what with each new planet being discovered and explored, new dangers were always on the horizon. It was_ those_ dangers that put his medical expertise to good use and allowed him to expand his medical knowledge, which was good news for countless other Starfleet doctors and all the other personnel of future explorations. And dammit, McCoy _knew_ this.

But that didn't mean he had to smile and like it the whole damn way.

As he nursed his second glass, the chime sounded at his door. Sighing tiredly, McCoy stood and made his way over, punching the access panel and looked up as the door slid open.

He wasn't surprised to find Kirk standing there, recently acquired wounds still freshly healing. (McCoy would have condemned the bastard to a nightly stay in sickbay, but with everything that had happened, he had better things to focus on than getting his stubborn friend to submit to isolated rest.) He did raise an eyebrow, however, at the sight of Spock standing slightly behind the captain in the hallway, face as impassive as ever (but that didn't fool McCoy in the slightest; he knew that the half-Vulcan had sustained just as much damage as his superior officer, and likewise was too stubborn to show it).

"Bones!" Kirk greeted as he came into view. His usual smile was plastered on his face, but his voice was softer than usual – happy and relieved, but also sobering to a degree. "How are you feeling?"

McCoy blinked his tired eyes. "Like I just spent six straight hours in surgery and two more trying not to get my ass handed to me by gravity," he replied bluntly. Kirk winced slightly; McCoy knew he was speaking a little harshly, but in all seriousness, he was completely spent. Jim would understand that, though. It was hard for the man to take anything McCoy said personally, especially in such difficult times.

"I was just gonna say, you look like hell, Bones," came the rebounding reply. McCoy snorted, slightly annoyed but not angry. "Listen, Spock and I were going to play some chess for a bit. Wanna come?"

McCoy exhaled, leaning against the doorframe. "You don't need me to play chess, Jim. Besides, you know what a shit player I can be. I'm not gonna be your third wheel. You go have fun, I'll just stay here." He could see what Kirk was trying to do, and while he appreciated it, he was just too tired.

"Bones," Kirk said, his grin softening into a genuine smile. "Come hang with us. I know you've been through hell and back today and you probably just want to be alone, but… this is the first real time I've been able to see you since it all started happening. I won't make you do anything, but if you're just gonna have some drinks or take a nap somewhere… would you at least do it with us?"

"I must also request that you join us, Doctor," Spock added, stepping forward for the first time since the door opened. "Your presence would be most agreeable."

McCoy knew he was staring, if only a little. He looked back and forth between Kirk and Spock. They both wanted to be with him? Even if that meant just being in the same room as him while he drank himself into a fuzzy oblivion? Or just nodded off in a chair somewhere? Really?

"Please, Bones?" Kirk asked, clasping his hands together in front of him like a pleading child. And damn him if McCoy couldn't resist his friend when he had such a genuine, heartfelt request (even if it seemed a little strange to him). Even Spock seemed to be anticipating his answer, as much as a Vulcan could appear to, at any rate.

"Ah, what the hell," McCoy said, draining the remainder of his glass and setting it down. "Lead the way, boys."

Their destination ended up being rec room four. It was completely unoccupied upon their arrival, and McCoy wasn't surprised – what with everything that had happened, it made common sense that most off-duty personnel were spending their time among their own quarters. McCoy was steered toward a nearby table with a preset chess board already on it. As he seated himself, he wondered how exactly this would go down. He supposed he could simply watch the two play, perhaps engage in a light conversation or two. Then again, Jim had assured him that he could do whatever he wanted, and that option was quite comforting to have when he really thought about it. The idea that they could occupy the same space, and yet be totally independent of one another: that's what it sounded like.

Being together without necessarily _being_ together. McCoy liked the implications of the prospect the more he thought about it.

He was brought out of his thoughts when a cup of tea was placed in front of him. McCoy blinked and raised an eyebrow, looking up at the one who had brought it.

"It is an herbal tea," Spock explained, "that has been known to have a soothing effect on the nervous system of the human body. I believe it will help you relax, Doctor." McCoy looked down at the cup; a warm, almost minty smell wafted up from the amber liquid. It sure looked tempting.

He picked up the cup and lifted it as if he were toasting. "Thanks, Spock." The first officer nodded in return and seated himself at the table.

McCoy inhaled more of the minty steam rising from the cup before taking a sip of tea – and immediately shut his eyes in bliss.

"_God_, if that isn't a slice of heaven…" he muttered before taking another sip. The corners of Spock's mouth twitched upwards.

"I take it the tea has your approval?" Spock inquired, faint amusement lingering in his eyes. McCoy nodded vigorously – as vigorously as his condition allowed him, in any case – and settled back in his chair, wrapping both hands around the cup and basking in the first taste of comfort he'd had all day.

The comm suddenly whistled and Kirk, who had been sitting nearby watching the rather sweet exchange, leaned over to answer it.

"Kirk here."

"_This is Nurse Chapel, Captain. Is Doctor McCoy with you? There are some lab results in sickbay that need his approval._"

Kirk glanced over at McCoy, and without hesitation replied, "Doctor McCoy is occupied at the moment, Miss Chapel. Is it crucial that he examine those lab results immediately?"

"_Well, no, sir, but I was told to–_"

"Miss Chapel, if it is not top-priority, then I believe this business can be taken care of tomorrow. After all that's happened today, I'm sure we can afford to do so. Don't you think?" McCoy resisted the urge to roll his eyes; only the captain could issue an order and make it sound like a charming request.

"_Yes sir, I understand._"

"Thank you, Nurse. Kirk out."

There was a silence that fell over them after the comm was switched off. McCoy couldn't quite place the feeling – it wasn't awkwardness (_never with these two_, he thought), nor was it tension. There was something almost… sentimental about it. Both men were being so kind to him: first Spock bringing him that sinfully-delicious tea and now Jim relieving him of an additional workload…

Kirk was giving him a strange look, almost as if he was in a position of indecision. McCoy was about to speak up when the captain suddenly rose from his chair and walked over, pulling him into a warm hug.

"You did good today, Bones," he murmured into McCoy's shoulder. "You always do. I'm so proud of you." McCoy found himself blushing lightly at Kirk's words – (wasn't that something you said to your kid or something?) – but his friend's sudden onslaught of affection did not go unappreciated. It was somewhat awkward from where he was sitting, but he reached up and patted Kirk lightly on the back.

"Just doing my job, kid," he said. _Always for you, Jim._

Kirk gave him another small squeeze before pulling back and looking over at Spock. He raised an eyebrow – what, did he think that Spock would hug him like that too? McCoy was about to put out a joke on the subject when, to his surprise, Spock stood from where he was sitting and came closer. He couldn't help but shut his eyes as the half-Vulcan reached around to cup the side of his neck and leaned down to gently – almost hesitantly – rest his forehead on top of McCoy's head.

"You are greatly appreciated aboard this vessel, Doctor," Spock said quietly, allowing small waves of gratitude and fondness to flow through his mind and into McCoy's. "Do not ever believe for a moment that you are not." Spock pulled back, allowing his hand to trail down and rest lightly on the doctor's shoulder.

McCoy opened his eyes, looking at Spock levelly. He wasn't quite sure what to say; he could only imagine what it took for Spock to say something so… well, _emotional_. He was sure that he didn't need to say anything in return – hell, the man probably already knew how he was feeling, what with his telepathic abilities – but still…

_Ah, what the hell._

McCoy quickly stood up and wrapped the half-Vulcan in a big hug. Spock stiffened, and McCoy could visualize Jim standing behind him and struggling to keep from laughing.

"Thanks, Spock," McCoy eventually said, deciding to keep it simple. He kept unspoken his joking quip of, "this never leaves the room," but at the thought of it he could feel Spock begin to relax in his grip. A warm hand placed itself on his back.

"Of course… Leonard," came the calm reply.

McCoy let go and sat back down with a sigh of contentment. So much for having a bad day; within the short span of twenty minutes, he honestly felt more appreciated and loved and _happy_ than he had ever thought he would that day. Kirk and Spock had also taken their seats again, but were each still looking at him, Kirk with a growing smile on his face and Spock with a more relaxed, slightly amused expression.

…Okay, _now_ it was getting a little awkward.

McCoy cleared his throat, hoping his blush wasn't as bad as it felt. "Well, are you two gonna play chess or aren't you? I didn't come down here to be oogled; I'm a doctor, not a piece of meat."

Kirk snorted out a short laugh and Spock quirked an eyebrow at the doctor's words. As the two finally began their game, McCoy curled back up in his chair and took to sipping his tea again.

_This_ was why he remained in Starfleet, he remembered. It was these moments – moments among friends that were suddenly made all the more precious because of the numerous dangers and threats that space posed to them each and every day. Space was a deadly place, but as long as it could be faced with this crew – these _friends_, McCoy reasoned – he realized he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
